


cocoa and a movie and a kiss

by uptillthree



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Domesticity, Fluff, M/M, Nightmares, boy do i not know what to tag this. it's all over the place, fostering, movie binging @ 2am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 09:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11597892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uptillthree/pseuds/uptillthree
Summary: The first night Nicaise knocked on their bedroom door at near two in the morning, Laurent honestly considered it a victory. Instead of making Nicaise go into said bedroom, Laurent said, “Let’s go to the living room. You,” he pushed a finger to Damen’s chest, “will make us cocoa.”Damen laughed in disbelief and stole a kiss to Laurent’s forehead. “You’re lucky I love you,” he said, padding to the kitchen, and Laurent really was.(Or: Nicaise has a nightmare. The three of them deal with it efficiently enough.)





	cocoa and a movie and a kiss

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings for mention of a nightmare? just to be sure.
> 
> i just wanted to write domestic fluff?? also, hope you don't mind laurent ragging on ca: civil war. i rewatched tale of kaguya recently too, so. here is me projecting.

The first night Nicaise knocked on their bedroom door at near two in the morning, Laurent honestly considered it a victory.

It meant that Nicaise trusted both of them enough to bother them in the middle of the night and actually ask for something. That was a lot, for some people. It was a lot for Laurent.

Damen was the one who got up, opened the door, and said, “Nicaise,” at which point Laurent forced himself to sit up and rub sleep out of his eyes. Nicaise looked young and uncertain by the door, wide-eyed and hair rumpled and arms crossed over his chest. _Nightmare,_ Laurent thought. Damen quickly grabbed a shirt and put it on. “You can come in,” he was saying, but Nicaise didn’t look like he particularly wanted to.

Laurent didn’t blame him. “It’s fine,” he said, walking towards them. “Let’s go to the living room. You,” he pushed a finger to Damen’s chest, “will make us cocoa.”

“I… will? It’s the middle of the night.”

 _“Is_ hot cocoa okay?” he asked Nicaise. “Or tea? Milk?” Nicaise just shrugged, not looking at either of them. “Hot cocoa’s okay,” he told Damen.

Damen laughed in disbelief and stole a kiss to Laurent’s forehead. “You’re lucky I love you,” he said, padding to the kitchen, and Laurent really was.

“Come on,” Laurent said to Nicaise. He went back to peel the covers off their bed before leading the way to the living room. Nicaise sat on the couch and stared into nothing while Laurent draped the bedsheets over him and turned some of the lights on.

“Should I put something on?” Laurent asked. Nicaise’s arms were crossed defensively under the sheet Laurent had given him. He still looked rather out of it. “A movie?”

Nicaise actually looked at him for that, before giving a small nod, so. A good sign. Probably.

“Which one?” Laurent asked, waving the remote. “I won’t let you pick often, you know. Might as well take advantage.”

The boy only shrugged again, so Laurent started browsing through what they had on the shelves. Maybe later on in the day they could all sit down and talk seriously and unpack whatever Nicaise had dreamt about, but— well. Right now Nicaise definitely wasn’t going to, and Laurent knew well enough how that felt. And so instead they were going to drink something hot and watch something stupid and see how it all played out.

After a few minutes, Laurent finally decided on _Tale of Princess Kaguya._  The first thirty minutes were light enough to entertain Nicaise without pulling him too far into the plot, and hopefully by the time it ended Nicaise would be asleep again. Also, it was a good movie and Laurent hadn’t watched in at least a year.

“Oh, that’s a nice one,” Damen said when Laurent put the film on. Somehow, he was carrying three large mugs of hot cocoa with little difficulty, and Laurent took them off him and gave one of the mugs to Nicaise.

“Thanks.”

They watched the film in relative silence; Damen fell into a doze beside Laurent almost immediately, having watched it before. Contrary to Laurent’s hopes, however, Nicaise did not fall asleep. His eyes were quite awake by the 60-minute mark, and he watched, rapt, until the credits rolled.

“What— is that it?” Nicaise said when the movie ended. “She just goes away at the end and forgets _everything?_ Just ‘cause a guy tried to jump her once? That’s _shit.”_

“It’s from Japanese literature, it's not like they could change the story,” Laurent said, surprised. “It’s about the flaws of humanity and Kaguya living her life—”

“She wasn’t even happy for, like, the rest of her life. She was only happy when she wasn’t in the city, and then her father and those guys ruined her life!”

“Yes, I know.”

Nicaise slumped into the couch, scowling. “She never even got to control her own life. It’s _shit.”_

 _Oh,_ Laurent thought. _Well. That bit might have hit home a little too hard. What was I thinking._ “That’s not the point of the film,” Laurent tried. “It’s a realistic portrait of society, if you think about it—”

Nicaise groaned. “Don’t get all analytical with me, I’ll just hate the stupid thing even more.”

“What are you two talking about?” Damen had woken up. “Why’re you fighting?”

“Damen, I’m arguing about the moral themes and storytelling of an animation masterpiece with a thirteen-year-old, hush.”

“It’s a fucking shitty movie," Nicaise said. 

Laurent conceded. Maybe _Kaguya_ was a bit much for a 2AM movie binge, anyway. Laurent hadn’t been thinking clearly. “It distracted you well enough.”

Damen yawned. “Pick another, then.”

Nicaise lit up. “Can I?”

Laurent glanced at his phone. It was already past four.

“You owe it to me because the movie you picked was shit,” Nicaise said.

“He’s kinda right.”

“You cried for half an hour over this movie the first time you watched it,” Laurent told Damen loudly. “Pick another, then. A good one.”

Nicaise was already rifling through their collection of movies with considerably more energy than when he first woke up, eyes wide and awake as he flipped through their collection of DVDs. “Hey, I never got to watch this one,” Nicaise said. He held up a copy of Marvel's _Civil War._

“No,” Laurent said. “That one’s terrible.”

“You hate it?”

“I abhor it.”

“Then we’re watching it!”

Damen sniggered, still half-asleep. “Let the kid watch what he wants, Laurent.”

“I never said anything,” Laurent said, so Nicaise hit play. Laurent rolled his eyes. “I’ll sleep during the movie.”

“I’ll turn the volume up,” Nicaise said, but he didn’t. He settled back into his place on the couch and draped the covers over them again.

Laurent leaned against Damen’s side and did, in fact, sleep. He had work in a few hours. If Nicaise made trouble Damen would be up to tell him off, and Laurent was a light sleeper, anyway. He tuned out the noise of the sound effects and dozed.

Damen nudged his arm maybe a little less than an hour later. “Hey.”

Laurent smiled. “Hey.”

Damen pointed with his chin at Nicaise, who was, thank God, deeply asleep on Laurent’s shoulder. “He’s asleep,” Damen said.

On the TV screen, Iron Man and Captain America were still duking it out. “I can see that.”

Damen bumped his head against Laurent’s sleepily, one arm tightening around him. “You’re such a cuddler.”

 _“I’m_ a cuddler?” It was a good thing the darkness of the room was enough to hide his blush, but Laurent feared Damen could feel the heat on his face anyway. “You’re worse. We should get up.” Laurent, cautiously, tried to maneuver himself into a sitting position, but found himself effectively crushed between the teenager he was fostering and the man he was fostering him with.

“Something wrong?” Damen asked, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Oh, do shut up.” Laurent himself was half-nestled into Damen’s chest, who was in turn flattened against the arm of the sofa. Laurent and Damen looked at each other, and then the absurdity of the situation hit and Laurent had to press his fist into his mouth to keep from laughing, not that Damen was that better off. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Enough,” Laurent said, out of breath for no reason at all. “Pass me one of those cushions from the armchair.” Damen did.

Somehow, with minimum difficulty, they both managed to get up without waking Nicaise, wrestle the couch cushion under him, get the kid to lie down, and keep on sleeping. Parental victories.

According to the clock, it was just past five in the morning. Though it was still dark, the sky was lightening slowly through the curtains.

Laurent wasn’t fooled. Give it another half hour and it would be sunrise. Quietly, he took the empty mugs into the kitchen to wash and left Damen to deal with the living room, where DVDs were still strewn about and the TV was still playing.

He was on the last mug when Damen came in, two strong arms wrapping around his chest and embracing him from behind.

Laurent had to fight off the stupid urge to smile. “Morning.”

“It’s not morning yet, but sure.”

“It’s getting light out. It’s morning.”

“You’re a good dad,” Damen murmured, pressing his chin to Laurent’s shoulder.

“Mm.” Laurent finished the washing and turned off the faucet. “Guardian.” Technically Nicaise wasn’t their kid, not yet. The foster system was long and tedious and they were a couple of unmarried young gay men. It was a relief that they were foster fathers at all. There were a lot of odds, but after all, to quote Damen— so fucking what.

Damen made a small noise of dissatisfaction. “But guardian doesn’t sound as, um, sweet.” He nosed into the crook of Laurent’s neck and breathed in deep. “Or hot.”

Laurent snorted and shut his eyes, leaning into Damen’s chest. “Like that, do you.”

Damen laughed. “Oh, shut up.” He pressed a careful kiss to Laurent’s jaw. _Resist, Laurent._ “You’re doing a good job and you know it.”

“Well, this isn’t a one-man job. You’re helping plenty.”

Damen looked pleased. “Good.”

He leaned in closer, mouth opening around a question, and then Laurent was turning around and kissing him, lips pressing against each other’s in the dim light of their kitchen, the lingering sweetness of the cocoa still on Damen’s tongue, and everything in him was lighting up with the warmth of it, of Damen, their hearts both beating quietly, and Laurent could feel it through the press of their chests.

When the first slit of sunlight shone in through the curtains, Laurent pulled away with reluctance. Damen was smiling still.

“Go catch a bit more sleep,” Damen said. “I can take care of breakfast.”

“You, breakfast?” Laurent smiled slyly. “Not sure I trust that.”

He was gratified when Damen laughed. “Fuck you, I make great breakfasts. Catch some sleep, I’ll wake you in a bit.”

It was almost unbearably sweet of him.

 

 

As it turned out, Damen didn’t need to wake him. Laurent had curled up in the armchair with a spare blanket, but he woke up on his own to the smell of bacon, eggs, and toast. Nicaise was still asleep, so Laurent left him on the couch and settled into his usual spot at the table.

“Good morning,” Damen said with a grin. “Coffee’s in the brewer.”

“I see you didn’t burn breakfast. And thanks.”

“You’ve burned breakfast more times than I have. Toast?”

“Sure, thank you. And I wasn’t aware you were keeping count.”

“I wasn’t—” Damen started laughing. “Alright, sure. You win. I still didn’t burn anything.”

Laurent smiled into his coffee. “I know. It’s— really good, actually,” he said. Damen’s smile, impossibly, widened, and the rest of breakfast passed amiably and without incidence. By the time Nicaise roused from sleep, it was half-past eight.

“Morning,” Laurent said as Nicaise sat down and Damen passed him a plate.

“Morning,” Nicaise said. There was a certain tiredness in his face, but nothing like the lost look in his eyes from the night before, and so Laurent attributed his unusual placidity to just sleepiness.

“Are you going to get ready for school? You’ll be late, but you can still catch the next period.”

“I can drive you,” Damen said through a yawn. “S’on my way to work.”

“I have a choice?” Nicaise asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“Contrary to popular belief,” Damen said, “you’re not actually being forced to go to school against your will.”

“That’s debatable.”

“We’d prefer if you attended classes, of course,” Laurent shrugged. “But we’d understand if you weren’t feeling up to it today.”

“What if I’m _never_  feeling up to it, ever again?” Nicaise said, and Damen gave him his best stern look while Laurent stared coolly back at him. “Oh, fine, I’ll go. I feel okay, anyway.”

 _I feel okay._ Laurent counted that as a victory too.

Damen was grinning as he reached over to ruffle Nicaise’s hair, an act which Nicaise rightfully protested. “That’s great, kid. Eat up and shower, then, we shouldn’t be any more late than we already are.”

“You’re not actually _excited_ about driving me to school. Gross. I can catch a bus.”

“I’m driving you,” Damen said firmly. Nicaise snorted.

All in all, it was one of Laurent’s best mornings.

**Author's Note:**

> catch me @ twitter/tumblr @julesdap


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